


Survivors

by fallenAngel161



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: IT'S BEAUTIFUL, Little bit of blood, One Shot, Scars, also cassian being lovely, cassian cares, i don't know medical stuff, i love the name cassian, little bit of violence, my baby, request, this gave me feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-20
Updated: 2017-03-20
Packaged: 2018-10-08 06:21:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10380372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fallenAngel161/pseuds/fallenAngel161
Summary: You are injured in battle but Cassian stays with you.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> This was a request from TheDoctorsCaptain. Thank you for the nice comment on Breathe, it always brightens my day to hear from the readers. I hope this fic lives up to your expectations. Enjoy :)

The tree line. You have to make it to the tree line. The trees are the only thing that will protect you till you reach the enemy base. That was the last thing your squadron’s captain, Cassian Andor, said before you joined the battle. That and don’t die. The open field that the rebels were fighting their way through was a battleground unlike anything you’d ever seen before. There was no cover, only land that seemed to go on forever. Stormtrooper forces were having no trouble defending the tree line.

You sprint, blaster in hand, with the test of your squadron around you. You hear shots going off in every direction and by the time you’re only ¼ of the way through, many had fallen. You can feel the hopelessness in your gut as you leap over bodies of those who had tried before you.

You reach half way through.  At that point Stormtroopers began to draw close for hand-to-hand combat as rebel forces continued to swarm forward.

You were quite good at hand-to-hand as you spent hours practicing to the point where you could give Cassian a run for his money. As the first storm trooper approaches you have no problem knocking them out with a hit to the gut and then to the forehead. You shoot several more before they can get closer.

For the first time the tree line doesn’t seem so far away. You have hope.

You spot a Stormtrooper out of the corner of your eye and turn to shoot it but it drops as another rebel shoots it first. You turn back towards the tree line. As you do you see a Stormtrooper standing not more than a couple feet away, blaster raised. It shoots before you have time to react and you fall backward from the hit before your mind even registers the pain. You lay stunned for a couple seconds before attempting to get up. As soon as you move, the pain bursts like a bubble and moves through you, radiating from the wound.

The Stormtrooper is walking towards you. You attempt to scramble back but, holy crap, the pain is paralyzing. Coming to a stop in front of you, the Stormtrooper pointed its blaster at your forehead.

This was it. This wasn’t how you thought you would die. Sure, you figured it would probably happen on the battlefield, as a hero. But here you would just join the mass grave in this god forsaken field. Amongst the hundreds and hundreds, your worst fear was being lost. Your only friends were within the rebellion and if they died in this battle then there would be no one left to remember you. You’d be nothing more than a casualty and another grave to dig.

The Stormtrooper suddenly staggered back as someone behind you shot it in the chest. You watched it fall to the ground by your feet. As you stared in horror at its crumbled body you felt someone grab your arm. “Get up,” you hear Cassian’s rough voice say. He pulls you to your feet and with you mostly leaning on him the two of you struggle towards the trees. Only moments ago you thought it wasn’t that far but now as you struggled with every step it looked longer than any distance you had ever crossed. You want to collapse to the ground but your will to survive overrides your pain. Gritting your teeth and clutching Cassian’s jacket like it held the very essence of your being, you stumble forward.

Cassian pauses once or twice to shoot something you couldn’t see. Whenever you began to slow he would pull you forward. Under his breath you can hear him whispering “Come on. Just a little farther…”

The two of you crossed the tree line just as a blaster shot missed your head and hit a tree instead. Cassian pulls you a little deeper into the woods before finally stopped and letting you sit with your back against a tree. “Let me see,” he says and with a concerned look he unbuttons your shirt to look at the wound. This was something you had often fantasized about just in very different context. You look down and catch a glimpse of the burned and bleeding wound and quickly look away. Cassian takes off his jacket, another action you wished to see in better times. He folds it up and places it against the wound. “Put pressure on it.” He moves your hands and places them over the jacket so with what little strength you have you can apply to putting pressure on the bleeding wound.

Your hands tremble as you try to put as much pressure on the wound as possible. Trails of blood travel down your side. Cassian, who had been digging in his pack for something, starts to pull the jacket away. He had a bottle of water in your hands.

“Wait,” he pauses and looks at you.  “I have… uh..” You try to reach into the inner pocket of your jacket.

“Let me,” he reaches over and you see the look on his face when he takes out the tiny bottle of cheap rum from your pocket. The tiniest bit of disappointment crosses his face.

“I figured, if I survive this I’m gonna need a drink,” you admit.

He sighs and unscrews the cap. He takes the jacket away from the wound and begins to pour the alcohol over it. You gasp in pain but you also know it’s necessary to prevent infection.

In the distance you hear gunfire and shouting. Cassian stops what he’s doing and looks up, listening, with one hand hovering over his blaster.

You reach up and take the jacket from his hands. “I can wait here for the medics. You go,” you tell him.

Cassian shakes his head. “No. I’m staying with you until they come.” The way he says it suggests it’s not up for debate. But you know Cassian and you know his devotion to the rebellion. You didn’t want to be the reason he wasn’t there to help them win.

“No, Cassian, they need you. Go.”

Cassian takes the jacket back and presses it to your wound again causing a spike of pain. He looks intently at you, almost with a bit of sadness. “I know my priorities.”

You smile. You’d always known Cassian cared about you because you were a part of the squadron under his command but now you knew just how much he cared. Enough to put aside the very thing his whole life was devoted to. No one had ever before expressed such concern for you. Your life wasn’t an easy one and the simple fact was that detaching yourself from others was always easier than the pain when you lose them. Better to have never loved than to have loved and lost was your moto. But you feel that way of life begin to melt away. You felt _safe_ and that was something you rarely experienced. Cassian was special to you and apparently you were special to him too.

“You’re cold.” Cassian’s concerned voice brought you out of your thoughts. You hadn’t even noticed that you were shivering. The woods weren’t cold so neither of you had dressed for cold weather.

Seeing it as his only option, Cassian lies down next to you and wraps an arm around your side so his hand rests on the jacket to apply pressure. “Is this better?” He asks.

You smile again because of the wave of warmth moving from his body to your left side. “Yeah… hold on.” You roll over to your side facing away from him until his warmth is wrapped around you like a blanket. You close your eyes, something you would never do out in the battlefield, but today is different.

When you awake the first thing you notice is that you’re cold. Then as you open your eyes you realize you’re somewhere unfamiliar with bright lights and there’s someone standing above you. In alarm, you try to sit up only to be pushed down with unfamiliar hands and an unfamiliar voice tries to say something. You begin to panic until you notice the rebellion insignia on the man’s uniform.  Cautiously, you lie back down. As you actually take the time to notice your surroundings you realize you’re in the back of a ship. The man standing over you has a medic uniform on.  

“Where’s Cassian?” You blurt out.

The medic is checking the bandages on the wound to make sure you didn’t cause it to start bleeding again after all the struggling. “I had to kick him out when he refused to your side. He’s probably lingering outside though.”

You sit up before the medic can advise against it. You look down at the clean white bandage wrapped around your side. You ask the question that you’re dreading the answer to: “Is it going to scar?”

The medic doesn’t hesitate. “Oh, yeah, definitely.”

You feel sick as you place a hand against the gauze. You had wanted to escape this war without any scars. You didn’t need any reminders of the pain you went through or the things you had to do in order to counter the horrific acts of others. To escape this war unscathed meant, to you, that life after it all wouldn’t be impossible but rather destined to be. You wanted a life after this war but you wanted one that had no reminders of one you were living now.  

“Can I go?”

The medic frowns, “Can you walk?”

You nod and stand up. At first you sway a bit and the medic reaches out to steady you but you wave him away. “I’m fine,” you insist. He doesn’t seem to believe it but you’re already walking towards to door.

Almost as soon as you’re outside you see Cassian. He sees you and rushes up, quickly taking you in his arms. He holds you close for a while before finally letting go to look at your face. Instantly he notices the defeated look on your face. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s going to scar,” you tell him. You don’t know how to explain why that hurts you so bad.

He studies your face for a moment before stepping back and pulling up his shirt so you could see that there was a nasty scar on his left side over the ribcage. It was much bigger than yours and looked much more painful.

You stare at it, mesmerized. You reach out with a trembling hand and touch the scarred flesh. Cassian takes you hand in his own.

“We’re survivors,” he says, in a soft voice.

You feel your wound begin to burn. It’s not a reminder of the horrors of battle, you realize. It’s a reminder of things you fought for and the things you survived to continue fighting. Whether it is a person or an idea, there were things that you were willing to go through hell and back in order to preserve. In whatever life comes after this one, it will be for the better _because_ of things you’re doing now. You don’t have to hide from that.

You hug him again and in a whisper you repeat, “We’re survivors.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and Comment please! I love to hear from you guys! I'm open to any more suggestions or requests if you're looking for anything.


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